Story of the Thief Hero Part 5

Some important notes:

If you post TLDR, I will suggest you go jump off of a space shuttle without protective clothing while simultaneously reporting your post as spam. Yay!
Please note that this is basically an idea for the Thief Hero. I wanted to do a short storyline, but it kinda... stretched out... into a fanfiction? D:
Don't worry about me splitting it into parts, that's just how much I updated the story at a time.
Also, please make another note that I did absolutely no research, so the science-y stuff... DON'T TRY IT AT HOME... and don't get mad at me for getting the storylines of any other Heroes wrong.

Freud is the “original” Evan Hero. Afrien is the “original” dragon.

OK, so after a lot of people pointing it out, Evan was NOT the original Hero with the dragon. That was Freud and the dragon Afrien. I looked up the storyline and edited my story to fit in with that (as well as adding in Part 3), so you might want to read it again even if you've already read it before. I've also added in some stuff in Parts 1 and 2, so you might want to read those again anyways.

Last thing before you move on to read...

I'm gonna make a list of people to tag every time I post a new part the the story so you'll know when I post it! Just let me know if you want to be a part of the list

Part One

Prologue: Years and years ago...

Ten years ago, this man... no one had even heard of him, he thought. He was the youngest Hero, the last one to join. He specialized in quick movement and stealth, and had sought out the other Heroes a year after the Black Mage's conquest had begun. He remembered that day clearly.

“You... you're not even sixteen!” Aran had said, despite his display of skill. Mercedes glanced at the Straw Target Dummy twenty feet away. He seemed to have barely moved, yet somehow he had left her side, sliced the Dummy into six pieces, and returned all in the space of one second... with a blindfold on. He took it off as Mercedes frowned at Aran. “Age is no indicator of power,” she pointed out. “You know this very well.” Freud stayed silent.In the end, they took him under their wings.

He glanced at Leafre, or what was left of it. The entire forest was burning, and screams echoed through the night as the Black Mage's minions tore through the peaceful creatures that Halflings had coexisted with for centuries. He vaguely heard Athena Pierce's voice as she conducted the evacuation of Leafre. He heard Aran talking with Athena. Apparently a child had been left behind in the forest.

As Aran left in search of it, he kept on the lookout for monsters. He had to make sure the ship got out of this hellish warzone safely with the civilians.

Aran returned, and he breathed a sigh of relief. The child was clinging to Aran's back. He heard Athena pleading with Aran to get on the ship with her, but he knew the answer. None of the Heroes that had stayed behind to fight would be leaving tonight. He stayed still, blending in with his surroundings. He had an unobstructed vantage point, and yet no one could see him.

Athena Pierce finally left. Aran looked around for a second, and he moved his hand slightly. Aran noticed the movement immediately, and beckoned. Aran blinked, and when he opened his eyes, he was by his side.

“The rendezvous point.”

Aran nodded. They set off to meet up with the others, and then to put an end to the war for once and for all.

The Black Mage cackled when his spell to freeze Afrien hit home. An egg tumbled out of a bag that Afrien was carrying. Freud gasped as the Spirit Pact was broken. “Freud, the egg! Get it out, and Afrien's legacy will live on! We'll cover your escape!” Aran yelled.Freud, wide-eyed and shaking, picked up the egg. He ran out. While the Heroes were distracted, the Black Mage quickly cast a succession of spells and froze the rest of the Heroes.“No,” he breathed, as each one of his comrades fell. The Black Mage laughed, and the ground rumbled. “Don't worry, you needn't grieve much longer... you will soon exit the hell that is this world and enter another...” Tears filled his eyes and rage filled his heart. A smoldering village... a baby crawling out of the ruins. An old man... soup... a steel-tipped fan... a flickering fire... a pair of red eyes... a bloodied scythe... a familiar cackle...“You don't remember who I am, do you?” he asked the Black Mage. He jumped from side to side, avoiding the Black Mage's bolts of energy. “I know all I need to know about you. I know you are the last remaining so-called Hero. I know that if you are destroyed, the resistance against me shall lose every seed of hope. I know that as soon as you are crushed, the world will be mine.”The ground rumbled again. He jumped to the ceiling of the cave, and launched himself off of it towards the Black Mage, weapon outstretched. “You will never remember. But I will,” he said. Chains of fire, ice, and lightning sprouted from the ground and caught the Black Mage's arms. The Black Mage roared. He stretched out an arm and swatted him out of the air, straight through the ceiling of the cave half a second before the chains swarmed and completely covered him.

Chapter 1: Present time

Omega Sector

“Meteorite is projected to strike the surface of the ocean in ten minutes and counting, sir. Fire directional missiles?”

Commander Moss stared at the screen. “Make sure it's perfect.”

“Yes, sir.” Everything was automated; the system would calculate the exact angle and time the missile would have to strike at to direct the meteorite into the Omega Sector containment capsule. All he had to do was press the button. He pressed it.

The alarm system was automatically activated. “Residents of Omega Sector, please direct yourself to your assigned Strike bunker. All visitors, please go to Strike bunker numbers 15 and 16. The meteorite will be directed to the Meteorite Containment Capsule, so there will be no debris. However, there may be an earthquake in case of an electromagnet failure, and it is advised that you enter your assigned Strike bunker immediately.” It repeated the message again and again.

Approximately ten minutes later, as predicted, the meteor descended over Omega Sector. There was no earthquake, and no damage was done. After all, the men stationed in Omega Sector had been through more actual meteor strikes than drills for them.

Commander Moss looked at his screen. “Excellent work once again, boys. The containment capsule is undamaged.” Everyone in the bunker cheered. “Now get on your HAZMAT suits and get in there.”

The Search and Evaluate team entered the air lock. They watched the meteorite being lowered and cut by lasers through the transparent blast doors as their armored suits were disinfected. Finally, they entered the containment capsule.

Steaming rock fragments lay on the bottom of the capsule, but a relatively spherical piece lay in the center, seven feet across. The team leader motioned for the others to surround it. Cautiously, he walked towards it and outstretched a hand. “51, laser,” he said over the radio.

Soldier 51 walked in and stood next to the team leader. “Permission?” he asked while raising his gun.

The thermal scan showed a warm, body-resembling patch. The team leader ordered soldier 51 to cut off the rock around the patch, and then called in another team with a sterilized Levitator to transport the rock to the lab.

“Doctor... what do you make of it?” Moss frowned. He didn't want to meet another alien species; he already had enough to deal with.

“Scans indicate that the body, if that is what it is, is humanoid in shape, with a head, torso, arms, and legs. There also seem to be digits, but it is a bit unclear.”

“Let's get it over with. Crack the thing open,” Moss commanded.

Doctor Forstan inserted paper-thin electromagnets into the rock, side by side. The plan was to activate them at the same time, and they would have such a repelling force that the rock would crack open like a nut.

“Sir, Commander Moss... the body... it... it looks human. It's breathing. It looks male. I suggest we put it, or him, on life support immediately.”

“Go ahead.”

Chapter 2: Three days later

“Doctor, can we wake it?”

Forstan frowned. He didn't know how long it would take this alien species to recover from a descent in the Maple World atmosphere. “I think we should try, sir. But if it does, do not agitate it. We don't know anything about it... Commander... it may be peaceful.”

“Very well.”

“Administer a minor shock,” the Forstan ordered a nurse.

The body strapped on the bed jolted a little, but its eyelids did not open.

“Double the voltage.”

The body jolted violently, and the eyes opened. They were a brilliant white.

“Forstan...!”

“Commander, with all do respect, shut up,” he replied in a low voice. He looked at the alien on the bed. It looked confused; harmless even. “Do you... speak English?” he asked, making his voice as soothing as possible. It's all about the tone, the actual words don't matter, since it won't understand, he thought to himself.

“Yes.”

Forstan froze in shock. Moss widened his eyes.

“Are you human?” the commander asked, with all the bluntness that can be expected from a military man.

“Yes,” he said again.

“Who... are you?” Forstan furiously scribbled down notes.

“I am Luctor, one of the five Heroes, and I sealed away the Black Mage even as he flung me into outer space,” he said. And then he passed out.

“Release him from his straps,” Forstan ordered.

“Luctor? Could he actually be Luctor...?” Moss asked with wide eyes. The nurses and guards watched nervously.

“It makes sense... Athena Pierce reports seeing a white fireball being propelled from the cave before it completely collapsed... and...”

“They never found his body,” Moss finished.

“That was not what I was going to say,” the doctor frowned. “Although it is a good point. What I was going to say was that there was a white steel-tipped fan next to him in the meteorite... and Luctor used that exact same weapon.”

¡° ¡±
TO BE CONTINUED...
Do you like it? DID YOU SEE THE PLOT COMING WAS IT OBVIOUS AND STUFF? Would you like to critique me? C:

Part Two

Chapter 3: Day 10

This is taken from Doctor Forstan's video log.

The subject... Luctor, that is... woke today. We allowed him to sleep after our first conversation, and he awoke by himself. He sustained a massive amount of tissue damage from his ascent into space, his orbiting as a meteor – let's not forget the radioactivity up there – and, of course, his final descent into Omega Sector. He's very addled right now. We're going through physical therapy currently, and he's very, very weak. He has not been able to walk and is barely even able to talk. It's been years since the final battle, and it seems that he was in space all this time. Commander Moss has passed the knowledge of Luctor on directly to Grendel the Really Old – we must keep his return a secret. Anyone that has seen Luctor or may remotely be related to the discovery of him has been sworn into secrecy. Moss tells me that Grendel will notify the other job masters, and will hopefully get into contact with Evan, Aran, or Mercedes. I will record more as I receive more information. The time is 2253.

Chapter 4: Day 11

1036

“He's awake.”

“Thank you, nurse.”

“I will leave you to it, Doctor Forstan.”

“Very well.”

“Doctor... Forstan...?” Luctor had trouble forming the words. He sat up very slowly in his bed.

“Yes, that is my name. Luctor... your body is in a very fragile state. Your descent into the atmosphere and the quick deceleration by the electromagnets... well, it's a wonder you're not a pancake. Hero or not, you're still human, and your body may be more enhanced than ours... but you've taken enough punishment in your time as a meteor to kill a thousand men. I'll do the best I can to help you regain your strength. Take it easy on your body,” he added.

“Thank... you, Doctor.”

“Your facial muscles seem to be working, although they are a little tender. Can you try smiling?”

He grimaced weakly. “It... hurts... quite a bit.”

“Are you hungry?” Doctor Forstan scribbled down notes on his notepad. Luctor seemed to want to frown at this activity, but couldn't manage the facial expression.

“No.”

“You shouldn't be. You have a mini-IV, which is just something that injects essential nutrients directly into your bloodstream. So it's like eating, except not eating. It's advanced, so it will activate itself if it detects anything is wrong with the nutrient balance in your blood.” Doctor Forstan ceased writing and gave his notepad to a nurse, who took it away.

“You... seem to know... about the Heroes... how long... has it been?”

“It's been about a hundred years. Aran and Mercedes are alive. The Spirit Pact has been renewed.”

“The... Spirit Pact..? I saw... Afrien... get frozen...” Suddenly, Luctor felt exhausted. He hadn't done anything but talk, yet he had no energy, and he was in basically a vegetative state. He leaned back and put his head on the pillow. So it's been a hundred years, eh? I used to be young. I still look young... probably. But I'm actually a hundred twenty years old now. Gaaaah, I definitely feel a hundred twenty.

“As far as we know, Freud made it to Victoria Island, but none of the major cities. He left the egg someplace. A boy named Evan found it.” He paused. “Luctor... I have something to tell you. The Black Mage's minions, despite our best efforts... broke the Black Mage free. He's already completely changed the face of Victoria Island to his liking. We have need of the five Heroes more than ever before...”

The Black Mage? So he broke free... Luctor would have laughed if he wasn't in so much pain. Everything I did, everything Aran did, everything EVERYONE did... and he still broke free. It's been a hundred years... and a bunch of hundred year old people are still fighting against each other...

“You seem really tired. Get some rest; I'll talk to you again tomorrow. If you need anything, hit the button on the left side of your bed.”

Everything is so confusing now...

Chapter 5: Day 12

The Black Mage cackled when his spell to freeze Afrien hit home. An egg tumbled out of a bag that Afrien was carrying. Freud gasped as the Spirit Pact was broken. “Freud, the egg! Get it out, and Afrien's legacy will live on! We'll cover your escape!” Aran yelled.Freud, wide-eyed and shaking, picked up the egg. He ran out. While the Heroes were distracted, the Black Mage quickly cast a succession of spells and froze the rest of the Heroes.“No,” he breathed, as each one of his comrades fell. The Black Mage laughed, and the ground rumbled. “Don't worry, you needn't grieve much longer... you will soon exit the hell that is this world and enter another...” Tears filled his eyes and rage filled his heart. A smoldering village... a baby crawling out of the ruins. An old man... soup... a steel-tipped fan... a flickering fire... a pair of red eyes... a bloodied scythe... a familiar cackle...“You don't remember who I am, do you?” he asked the Black Mage. He jumped from side to side, avoiding the Black Mage's bolts of energy. “I know all I need to know about you. I know you are the last remaining so-called Hero. I know that if you are destroyed, the resistance against me shall lose every seed of hope. I know that as soon as you are crushed, the world will be mine.”The ground rumbled again. He jumped to the ceiling of the cave, and launched himself off of it towards the Black Mage, weapon outstretched. “You will never remember. But I will,” he said. Chains of fire, ice, and lightning sprouted from the ground and caught the Black Mage's arms. The Black Mage roared. He stretched out an arm and swatted him out of the air, straight through the ceiling of the cave half a second before the chains swarmed and completely covered him.He could feel the Black Mage's final spell sapping at his will... a spell to forget, to rob him of his memories.Who am I? Why... why am I flying? Why do I have this fan? “NO!” he screamed. The air snatched his words away from him. “I WON'T LET YOU TAKE THIS AWAY FROM ME.”I am Luctor, one of the five Heroes. My weapon is a steel-tipped fan. I am a master of stealth, a true Thief. I was the end of the Black Mage. I WILL REMEMBER.

Luctor opened his eyes. His sweat was ice against his skin. He felt confined. Too confined for his liking. He was a master of movement, and yet he could not move. He knew he wasn't being kept prisoner by anyone. His body was its own prison. He needed a way to strengthen it, and quickly. If what Forstan said was true, and the Black Mage was free to rampage as he pleased, then he, as one of the five Heroes, or... one of the four that were left, had a responsibility to protect the Maple world. Again.

But how? My mind is weak, and my body weaker. I can't tap into any energy. I can't eat, I'm fed by this little pouch of water strapped to my arm.

“Luctor! You're awake!” Doctor Forstan walked into the room with a surprised look on his face.

Very convincing. It's not as if you're not monitoring my condition every minute of the day. “Have you been in contact with any of the other Heroes?”

“Unfortunately not. I will tell you when we have had an opportunity to talk to them.” He took a cloth out of his pocket and dabbed at his forehead.

He looks troubled. His vein... sweat... even his hand is shaking a little... what is that in his pocket? What is that smell...? It seems so familiar...

“How am I doing?”

“Your body is recovering marvelously. Your facial muscles are working much better – you're able to talk without problem now.” He smiled. His mouth twitched violently, and he turned away. “I have a shot to administer. It should speed up your recovery.”

He walked out, coming back inside the room a minute later carrying a black suitcase. He opened it and took out a needle.

“This may hurt a little bit.”

This aura... the color of the serum... no...

He summoned all his strength and threw his arm across his body. He hit the syringe with the back of his hand, and it flew across the room, where it broke against the wall. The liquid splattered across the wall and fizzled violently. A putrid smell filled the room.

I knew it. Drake poison.

“Oh, for heaven's sakes. That would have sped up your recovery tenfold.”

“I'm not stupid. I noticed your smell as soon as you walked into the room.” The button. I have to press it. Luctor moved his left arm slowly off the bed, trying to feel out the button.

“So, I guess the game is over. No more use hiding, eh?” Doctor Forstan exploded and a cloud of darkness rapidly expanded from where he had been standing. When it dissipated, there was a man in a blue robe smiling, and the doctor lay on the floor. Over the left side of the man's chest was woven a detailed golden tiger.

“Francis.” Finally. The button. I have to stall for time.

He frowned and shook his head. “I was trapped under that rock for quite a while, Luctor. I am very upset at you.”

“I should have killed you.”

“Of course you should have. But you were so preoccupied... Do you know I have discovered a new way to control people? Instead of using puppets like I used to, I can simply occupy someone's body and possess them. I only use puppets when I don't feel much like sticking around.”

“Was it you who released the Black Mage?”

Francis wagged his finger. “Stop stalling for time. I am going to kill you, and that is inevitable. I wish I could have used the poison... that way it would have been slow and painful, and no one would even know I'd been here. But since you insisted on being annoying and thwarting that... I suppose I will have to bloody my hands.” He reached into his robe and pulled out a 6-inch long black dagger while walking to the side of the bed.

No...

“You are the Hero who sealed the Black Mage... and yet you are helpless. You cannot even move. The last Hero to fall, this time the first. To the Black Mage!” He stabbed downwards at Luctor's heart.

Luctor was pushed off his bed and skidded against the floor until his back slammed into the wall. Ow... what the heck?

He lifted his head. Doctor Forstan lay across the bed with a knife in his back. He looked Luctor in the eye. “I'm... sorry.” His eyes lost focus and his head slumped.

Francis looked down at his hands. He sighed exasperatedly. “You really are a lot of trouble, Luctor. I was going to use his body to get out safely. He sacrificed himself for no reason; you're dead either way.”

He jumped towards Luctor, his dripping knife outstretched. A bang rang out, and Francis was thrown against against the wall. The window behind him cracked from the impact. Blood from his shoulder sprayed the window. Commander Moss and five other soldiers stood in the doorway, all their guns aiming at Francis.

“Finish him.”

Francis turned towards Luctor. He threw a puppet at one of the soldiers and jumped out the window as bullets whistled past him.

The puppet was absorbed into the soldier's skin. He aimed at Luctor.

“He's poss-”

Commander Moss took out a knife and stabbed the soldier in the back of his neck. He collapsed.

“Omega Sector is under attack. We have to get out. Our defenses won't hold for long.” Moss took a red band-aid out of his pocket and put it on Luctor's arm. “This will give you some strength for one hour. You have to get up to the warper on the top floor. We're on the bottom. Take the stairs. The first thing the attackers did was cut the power lines – we're running on backup electricity, and we have no idea how long it will last. Activate the warper and you will end up in Nautilus Harbor. Aran is waiting for you there.”

Luctor could feel his strength coursing back into his limbs. He raised his hand and clenched it into a fist. He turned it around, looking at it closely. He stood up.

“And you?”

“I will stay behind. I have to destroy the warper to prevent them from going through Omega to Nautilus. I will coordinate the defense as well. Omega may go down, but we're taking as many of them with us as possible. Here are your fan and the clothes you were in when we found you.” Commander Moss handed Luctor his neatly folded dark blue clothes and his black steel-tipped fan.

“Thank you, Commander.” Luctor looked Commander Moss in the eye and saluted him. Moss saluted back before leaving with his men.

To be continued... if you like it.

Did you know that ninjas didn't wear black? Black actually stood out in the night, and dark blue blended in more easily.
Please leave a comment/some feedback/critiques/etc.!

Part Three

Chapter 6: Day 12

As Luctor ran up the stairs, he began to think more clearly. I can help. I have my strength back... perhaps I can turn the tide of the battle and keep Omega from being taken over.

A huge explosion ripped through the reinforced metal wall ahead. As the smoke cleared, Luctor saw a smiling face. The smiling face belonged to a man in blue robes standing behind five Omega Sector soldiers. Their faces were blank and a dark shadow from nowhere covered their eyes.

“Francis.” He tightened his grip on the fan in his right hand.

“Ah, Luctor! Fancy seeing you here...” Francis rubbed his chin. “We were merely looking for you... and it seems we have found you.”

I'm no longer a weak, defenseless vegetable. I can fight back now. With a flick of his wrist, Luctor's fan opened. The intricate golden tiger design glinted. He held it behind his back. After a hundred years... can I still do this?

Francis noticed the movement. “No need to be so rude... If you surrender, I shall make your end painless – just a quick stab in the heart or perhaps a slit of the throat. No need for all this... unpleasantness.” His broad grin didn't waver.

The soldiers raised their guns and fired. Luctor shifted his body and avoided the first bullet by a millimeter. He slashed diagonally towards the left and then to the right, slicing a bullet in half and deflecting three others towards Francis, then jumped to avoid another spray of bullets.

Francis waved his hand and the bullet went around him. He rolled his eyes and yawned exaggeratedly. “Really, Luctor? That was so predictable.”

The doe raises its head, inquisitive, then bends down to eat again.

Luctor jumped again. As the soldiers raised their guns to aim at Luctor, he focused some energy and expelled it from the palm of his outstretched hand, shooting himself backwards, away from the bullets. As he landed, he almost lost his footing and fell down the stairs. He regained his balance and glared at Francis.

He smirked back. The soldiers aimed at Luctor and opened fire.

The tiger pounces and kills the doe in a single swipe.

Luctor moved forward instantly. He instinctively took note of each bullet and its path, and how to avoid it while still advancing. In a flash, Luctor had disappeared. The soldiers stopped firing.

Enraged, the mother of the doe charges and kicks the tiger as hard as it can.

Francis looked behind him, then glared at the soldiers. “Why did you stop shooting? He got away, thanks to you.”

“We're out of bullets.”

“Oh... that's too bad. Seems like I'm out of thugs, what a coincidence,” Francis replied. The soldier raised an eyebrow even as Francis killed him and his comrades with his knife. He searched around the hallway with his eyes, investigating every shadow. “Now... where are you?” he muttered.

The tiger, bruised and its dignity hurt, roars savagely and mauls the deer.

“Don't you remember that promise I made to you all those years ago? And the promise you made back to me?” Luctor's voice projected out of nowhere, echoing in the hallways.

“Stop playing these games, Luctor. You know that I was always the better one at mind tricks...”

Francis snarled. “You promised me you would always have my...” his eyes widened. He whispered the last word. “...back...” He whirled around just in time to see a flash of white and the spray of blood from the slit in his neck before collapsing.

An old man shoots at the tiger, chasing it away. He steals its two kills.

Luctor looked down at Francis' body and took a deep breath. Every line in his face was etched with sorrow. “And you promised you would always have mine.”

“The tiger is a brave animal, children. Every man would do well if they had the same qualities as a tiger.”

As Luctor walked away, the golden tiger woven into Francis' blue robes blazed brightly, and then his body and clothes disappeared.

Chapter 7: Day 12

The warper hummed loudly. The monitors on the side of it showed that it was powered up and ready to go.

The man looked like an engineer. He wasn't holding a weapon, and was dressed in blue overalls, blue hat, blue gloves and brown boots.

He's not possessed. Luctor relaxed and closed his fan. “Sorry about that. So how does this work?”

“Just step into the chamber and I'll send you on your way. After you go, I'll be able to turn on the defense system and maybe we'll have a chance against them... that puppeteer can't control machines, hopefully.”

“Puppeteer? Francis is dead. I just killed him on my way up.” Luctor looked at the engineer and raised an eyebrow.

The engineer shrugged. “Then who's this?” He put up live video feed of the battle on one of the monitors. He rotated the camera and zoomed in on a figure in a blue robe.

A chill went through his spine as he remembered the Battle of the Tower. Luctor swore. “He did it again. He sent some soldiers and an illusion after me!”

“Whatever, dude. Just get it and I can turn on the defense system and shoot the hell out of that guy. He literally fights like fifty men.”

“But...”

“Trust me. Just get inside. You're more important than all of Omega Sector. The whole tower is rigged with explosives – as soon as someone gets up here, I'm blowing it all up.”

Luctor reluctantly stepped inside the chamber. The engineer cheerfully waved at him before pressing the button.

The warper reverberated, closing the door and sending pulses of light up and down the sides. Luctor's eyes were filled with bright light, and he felt a tingling sensation.

A moment later, the door to the chamber opened and Luctor, blinded, fell out. Irritated, he said, “Great. I'm blind and it didn't work. Thanks a lot.”

A firm hand gripped Luctor's shoulder. A warm hand. A familiar grip. It pulled him up and Luctor stood uncertainly, still not able to see.

“Aran?”

“Close your eyes and count to three, then open them. Your eyes will adjust,” a voice said.

Luctor did so and opened his eyes. This time, they focused on a woman in the front of him. She wore a red and black robe and a pirate hat. She smiled at him, a mischievous smile. The hand was still on his shoulder, helping him stay upright. He turned his head to the right and saw him.

White hair, brown eyes. Chocolate skin to match his rich voice. Aran.

“It's good to see you, Luctor.” He flashed his teeth at him.

“Same with you, Aran. It's been a while.”

Aran smirked. “Only a hundred years.”

Luctor suddenly felt exhausted. His grip on his fan slackened, and it fell to the ground. The polished wooden floorboards seemed to be getting awfully close.

Aran inspected the red band-aid on Luctor's arm. “Ah. OK. Put your arm around me and we'll take the taxi to Ellinia. Grendel wants to see you.” He nodded at the woman. “Kyrin, please show the way. Your ship is like a maze.”

Kyrin sighed and lead the way outside. “You'd think a hundred year old warrior would be a bit wiser...”

Sunlight hit Luctor's eyes for the first time in a hundred years. The warmth penetrated his tired bones. “Wow, I feel a lot better under the sun.”

“Mr Antisocial, you haven't been in the sun for a hundred years. Of course it feels good. Thanks, Kyrin,” he added.

“Glad to help. Time to get my defenses up. Never know when that guy will hit.” Kyrin walked back inside the Nautilus.

“Yo, hail a taxi for us, won't you?” Aran said to no one in particular.

The pole arm Aran was carrying on his back glowed and smoke billowed out of the top of it. “Yes, Master,” a glowing man floated on top of the smoke. “Will that be all, Master?”

“Hey, Maha. Haven't seen you in a long time...” Luctor grinned weakly.

Maha pouted. “At least you remember me. My closest friend here” he poked Aran in his spiky hair “didn't even know who I was for the longest time.”

“Just shut up and hail a taxi already.” Aran's cheeks turned red.

Maha rolled his eyes. “Aran's still a little slow with memory. Grendel told us that he'd teleport us once we sent him a message, remember?”

“Oh... yeah...”

He shook his head. “Go see a psychologist, man.” He grabbed a stone off the ground and held open his hand with the stone in the middle. With a bright flash of light, it was gone.

On an impulse, Luctor closed his eyes. When he opened them, he was in a huge library with his arm still around Aran.

“... took command of the magicians during the Battle of Leafre when Hanse, my mentor, fell from a fatal arrow wound,” a deep voice resounded. Grendel floated in through a doorway from the next room.

“Um. Yes. That would be Grendel. That guy floating in.”

Luctor studied Grendel. All his clothes were light gray: a robe gilded with gold; soft-looking shoes; a long, flowing cape; and a tall wizard hat. His eyes, made smaller by his drooping eyelids, twinkled with a soft and sorrowful shine, as if they contained a dying star. His neatly groomed long white hair and beard hung down to his shoulders. Overall, he looked like the old sage that was all words and no action.

“You've changed.”

Grendel smiled sadly. “Time did not stop for all of us, Luctor.”

“Do you always float like that or what?”

“My bones are frail. I was never strong physically; I have always relied on my mental capabilities.” He waved his hand and a cot appeared on the ground. “Aran, put him on the cot.”

Aran gently lifted Luctor off his feet and put him onto the cot.

“The people from Omega Sector told me you are extremely weak. That is to be expected. It seems fortunate, however, that your memory was not affected.” Aran blushed. “I will attempt to heal you. It should make it so you can enjoy the power you had with the little science gadget there.” He gestured towards the red band-aid. “However, it will only heal you partially. You will still have to exercise in order to fully recuperate.”

“I understand.”

“Then I shall begin.”

To be continued...

Did you know that you can only fire an AK 47 continuously for 4 seconds before it runs out of ammo?
Please leave comments/critiques/etc! Hope 'twas a fun read

Part Four

Chapter 8: Day 12

“Well, how do you feel?” Aran asked.

“I feel young again, as I should. Grendel... Grendel, thank you.”

“Whatever I can do do hinder the Black Mage. Athena Pierce has prepared a training ground for the Heroes. One of you still has not been found, and you are not all ready for battle.” Grendel floated back towards the doorway he had come in from.

“Grendel. Hanse... he was a good man.”

He didn't turn around. “I know,” he said quietly before floating away.

“Hanse?” Aran looked at Luctor quizically.

“Hanse was the greatest magician of the time, right after Freud.”

“Ah.”

“During the Battle of Leafre, Hanse commanded the forces of the magicians. You were there... I guess you forgot. It was... not going well.”

“Luctor, we must retreat. The enemy is pounding us too hard! Thieves were not meant to take such punishment!” “Wait, Dark One. Have patience. We may win this battle yet.” “How? We have no reinforcements coming. The warriors cannot push forward. The magicians are pinned against a cliff. The pirates cannot defend the beachfront. The archers...” the Dark Lord laughed bitterly. “The archers separated from the formation and have been surrounded.”Luctor pointed at the horizon. “The sun is coming up. Wait a little longer.” “The sun will not help, Luctor. It will be in our eyes.”

“We had something planned for sunrise. But minutes before it could go into action, disaster struck.”

“We must retreat!” the Dark Lord insisted. “No. Trust me. Wait until sunrise.”A horn sounded. The horn reserved for the announcement of a death of a commander. Luctor suddenly felt cold. Please... no... “Flagmen! Who is it?” the Dark Lord barked. “Hanse has been struck down, sir. A stray arrow struck him in the lung. It was cursed; there is no chance of using magic to heal him.”
No... not Hanse... Luctor felt like screaming. “Our plan has failed,” he informed the Dark Lord. “Give the order to retreat. We must save the archers.”

“We had lost all hope. The plan was our only chance to turn the fight around. The magicians were to... well...”

One of the flagmen ran up to Luctor. “Look!” he pointed at the magicians' formation. The magicians had recovered from the disarray that followed their commander's death and were regrouping, slowly pushing forward. “Wait!” he yelled to the Dark Lord. “Don't retreat yet!”The Dark Lord yelled at the generals. “Not yet!” He ran back to Luctor's side. “We're still losing. We will continue losing. We must retreat!”The first ray of sunshine hit Luctor's eyes. The long battle during the night had tired him. He had retreated to the commander's viewpoint on the hill. The sunlight reinvigorated him. He suddenly had the energy to fight back. “No. We will not lose.” He turned to the flagmen. “Signal the magicians. Tell them to do it now.”The flagmen signaled the magicians. One of them said to Luctor, “They say they're not in position yet. They will need to push forward further.”The Dark Lord yelled at Luctor hysterically. “IN POSITION FOR WHAT? WHY AREN'T YOU TELLING ME EVERYTHING?”Luctor didn't turn to him. “I am a thief, Dark One. Keeping secrets is my job.”The sunlight shone on the soldiers of the Maple World. Suddenly, a bright light emanated from the magician formation. An enormous shield shimmered in front of their front lines. It extended to the thief formation as well as the warriors' and the pirates'. A separate shield surrounded the archer section. The Dark Lord laughed incredulously. “A shield? A giant shield? THIS is your great plan? It will deplete the magicians' energy and we will be destroyed!” “No, Dark One. It is not a shield. Merely a bending of light. An illusion. On this side, we see a slight shimmering. On the enemies' side, the sunlight is magnified and reflected towards them. They will not be able to see a thing.”

“And then everything started going well for us. The spell worked miraculously. Our soldiers pushed right past the boundaries of the spell, but it didn't matter. We weren't facing in that direction. The archer formation joined together with everyone else. The beach was defended. We pushed forward rapidly. We would have won, too...”

Another horn sounded. But it was unfamiliar. A messenger ran up. “Not our horn, sir. It is from the enemies.”Over the hill approached enemy reinforcements. Thousands strong. More than twice the amount of the current enemies. “That... is not good.” The Dark Lord, amazed by the surge of the soldiers in the aftermath of the spell, now said once again, “We have to retreat.”

“And so we lost the Battle of Leafre. We couldn't handle so many enemies. We retreated and evacuated Leafre. And then we, the Heroes, went after the head of the snake...”

“I remember now... I was fighting the entire night with the warriors... the enemies seemed endless...”

The silence was deafening. Neither of them wanted to say that the same thing could happen again.

“Let's get to Henesys.”

“Yeah.”

Chapter 9: Day 12

“So, here we are. Henesys.” Luctor looked around. It seemed so peaceful. Bright sunlight, a few clouds here and there, roads paved with white stones. The town was alive. People ran back and forth, going about their business. Children played on the streets.

“You know, Evan was born near here.”

“Evan? Is he...”

“Freud's successor. He has somehow formed a Spirit Pact with a dragon... Mir. He didn't use the spells Freud did. I don't even know how he did it.”

“How is he?”

“He was a farm boy when he found Mir. Their bond is strong... Evan was the first human Mir saw. Mir was the one who revealed Evan's untapped prowess with magic. Before Mir, Evan had no idea how to use magic.”

“So the bond must run very deep. Perhaps even deeper than Freud's?”

“Yes. Evan is very powerful. And he's only 17.”

“Mercedes?”

Aran snorted. “Ran off with some purple warrior. Demon Slayer. Doesn't deserve his title. Part of the resistance or something.”

Luctor laughed. “Does he know how old she is?”

“Even we don't know how old she is. Elves don't show age. It's rather frustrating. She could be a thousand for all we know.”

“Ah, Aran. So nice of you to come see us in Henesys. I would have thought you were busy with all that being a Hero nonsense,” an old man sneered at the pair of Heroes.

“Chief Stan. I am currently on official business, and we are to see Athena Pierce immediately. Where is she?”

Chief Stan stroked his beard. “Well, if you could get my money back from my bratty little son...”

“Chief Stan, we're not here to go on a little quest for you. Please just direct us to Athena Pierce.” Aran raised his voice a little.

“Well, Athena Pierce... she's in the target range. Are you sure...”

“Yes, I'm sure I don't want to help you,” Aran said firmly. As they walked off towards the target range, Luctor heard Chief Stan muttering about his son under his breath.

Luctor raised an eyebrow at Aran.

Aran shrugged. “Chief Stan is a little... crazy. Just ignore him.”

There was a blur, and then Luctor's arm appeared in front of Aran's face. Clenched in his fist was a silver arrow.

“Oops,” a woman in front of them lowered her bow. She glared at Aran, turned around, and walked off into a hollowed-out tree.

“Funny. Didn't look like an accident to me. The targets were... um. Behind her.” Luctor smirked at Aran. They continued walking to the tree.

“She's still angry at me. Amazing...”

“I'm not surprised. She begged you to evacuate. But you didn't, and the result? You were thought dead for a hundred years.”

“Well, thank you for not helping at all.”

Luctor shrugged. “What am I supposed to do? Sort out your own girl troubles. I'm just here for her training ground.”

Luctor looked inside the doorway at Athena. She was leaning back in her chair with her eyes closed. Her long silver hair hug from her shoulders. She was entirely dressed in leather padded armor. Her massive bow was set next to the table in front of her. A small knife hung from her belt. Luctor knocked on the door.

“Come in.” She raised her head and looked at Luctor, locking her warm hazel eyes with his bright white ones. “It's been a while, Luctor. You don't look any different.”

“I feel different.”

Athena tilted her head. “Didn't Grendel do his bit of hocus pocus yet?”

“Yes, but he said he couldn't heal me completely. I have to exercise and train myself to get the rest of my strength back.”

“Of course. You're welcome to use the dojo. However, it's getting late. I suggest you rest. You can stay in my guest room upstairs.” She stood up and started walking up the staircase, hair flying before a nonexistent wind.

“Thank you.”

“What about me?” Aran asked to the back of Athena's head.

“What about you? I have no more rooms. Sleep outside.” Athena disappeared up the stairs.

“I know you have four rooms up there, and only two are being used!” he yelled after her. A door slammed in response.

Luctor laughed silently at his friend.

To be continued...

Did you know that the bow and arrow revolutionized warfare? Yup! With longbowmen, one of the kings of England decimated French forces that outnumbered his men 4 to 1.

Please leave comments/critiques/etc! =)

Part Five

Chapter 10: Day 13

A clear night. The crescent moon. Twinkling stars. A soft breeze in El Nath.A man and a woman, neither older than thirty, sit at a table. They watch their fireplace and the pig on the spit above it. A small baby crawls on the floor, chasing after a wooden sphere. The couple gaze lovingly at the baby and go back to tending to their meal.The village drums beat. They recognize the signal beat that indicates a convoy of the Royal Guard has arrived. The man hurries outside to honor the king's men. The woman picks up the baby and wraps him in a blanket. The woman and child watch anxiously from the window of their small house.The villagers learn what the convoy wants. They had just come from putting down some criminals and wish to stay at the local inn for the night. They are pointed to the inn and bar, where the innkeeper gladly serves them a round of free drinks. He asks that they buy drinks if they wish to have more.The members of the Guard agree to his request. Throughout the night, they party and feast, celebrating their crushing of the Red Band of the El Nath Woods. They drink incessantly, and four of them even pass out drunken at their seats. Several sing drinking songs, entreating the village to their horrible drunken singing voices.Later in the night, one of the Guard drunkenly approaches the chef and demands deer. The chef replies that the deer have migrated to warmer regions, and there is no deer meet in storage. Angered and intoxicated, the soldier draws his sword and threatens the chefs.The village peacekeepers are called by frightened cooks. Two of them enter, bows drawn. The soldier laughs and, fooled by his liquor into believing he is invincible, charges. He is shot and killed immediately. The rest of the Royal Guard hear the commotion.They demand payment for the death of one of their members.The village chief refuses, saying the death was justified.The Royal Guard, drunk and feasting the whole night, are enraged by this insult to their authority. They cut him and everyone around down.They realize what they have done and slaughter everyone in the village and burn it down, erasing all their traces. They leave and camp miles away.In the morning, an old man investigates the smoldering ruins. He hears the cries of a baby. He digs it out and takes it to his hut in the middle of the woods, where he mourns the loss of his friends in the village.He puts the baby on a cot and it falls asleep peacefully. He looks down at it pitifully. “Luctor,” he says. “Your parents are dead.”

Luctor awoke and his eyes blurred before they adjusted to the light. Birds on the windowsill chirped merrily. He sat up.

“Oh, you're awake. I was just about to wake you up. Aran's waiting for you.” Athena looked at him more closely. “Are you OK? You look strange.”

“Yeah, just... just a bad dream.”

“Alright. Bathroom's down the hall on the right, I suggest you clean yourself up a bit.”

Luctor closed his eyes. A phrase stuck in his head by hundreds of repetitions from his teacher echoed from the depths of his mind. You can't escape your past, Luctor.

He sighed and went to the bathroom. He looked into the mirror at his own reflection.

His brown hair, longer on the top, was around three inches long. The sides of his head were shaved from the bottom up, gradually becoming thicker on the way up. His white eyes, unique in their color, had once seemed innocent and carefree. Now wrinkles above his eyebrows were present from all the worrying he had done in the war against the Black Mage. A thin stubble covered his face.

He unattached one of the metal frames of his fan, allowing it to hang loosely from the rest of it. He held it securely and used it like a knife, shaving himself carefully.

He looked much younger without the stubble.

Athena's right. I don't look much different.

He walked downstairs.

“What took you so long, man? I've been waiting here for twenty minutes already.” Aran looked at Luctor again. “Glad to see you got rid of the bush on your face. You don't look good with it.”

Luctor smacked Aran on the head. “No one asked you.”

Aran swung his arm at him, but Luctor dodged it easily. Luctor smacked him again and laughed.

His face red, Aran asked, “So... we going to the dojo first or what?”

“Sure, whatever. Sooner I recover, the sooner I can help out.”

“Alright.”

As they walked, Luctor took a look around. So much had changed since he was last here. Henesys used to be filled with dirty streets; garbage had been littered as if rubbish bins had yet to be invented. The houses had been simple wooden huts that oftentimes leaked rain.

Now, Henesys was the cleanest of all the cities. The streets of mud had been repaved with beautiful white stones, and filthy rags no longer littered the streets. The primitive huts that had once surrounded the streets had been replaced with graceful mushroom houses with whitewashed cement walls and orange cap roofs.

But Luctor found himself thinking. The only kind of fortification this city has are two wooden gates at the opposite ends of the city. If the Black Mage were to attack Henesys, they would barely help. He resolved to talk to Athena about the matter.

They stopped outside of one of the smallest houses Luctor had ever seen. It was five feet tall and could probably fit two children's beds in it. Aran knocked on the door.

A moment later, a man's head popped out. Luctor estimated his age to be around thirty, yet he had the explosive energy of a five year old. “Aran! And... I suppose you're Luctor. Ready for training, eh? Let me get dressed.” His head retreated into the house and he closed the door.

“Please don't tell me that's my trainer,” Luctor said to Aran.

Aran laughed at him. “Don't worry, he's just a Cleric. We're bringing him along to heal us if we accidentally injure each other. Maybe even resurrect us if we lop each others' heads off.”

“What? Lop each others' heads off? Are you planning to do that to me today?”

“That was a joke, dude. Relax. He's only a Cleric, he can't resurrect anyone yet.”

The door opened and the man squeezed out from the doorway. He stood up straight. He was six feet tall. “So, Luctor. I'm Eddy, and I'm your Cleric for your dojo training today... blah blah blah.” He paused and looked around. “Oops, I forgot my staff! Hold on a mo'.” He opened his door and put his torso inside, with his legs sticking out. After a couple of seconds, he emerged, holding a simple metal staff with a large emerald mounted at the top.

Aran clapped Luctor on the back and walked after Eddy. Luctor sprinted after them.

Chapter 11: Day 13

Eddy suddenly motioned for Luctor to stop. They were in front of a small dilapidated shack. The roof and walls were falling apart. The wood seemed to have been eaten through by termites.

Luctor motioned towards the shack. “Um... what's this?”

Aran grinned. “Our dojo.”

“Our – what? That thing looks like it's going to collapse any minute!” Luctor said incredulously.

“Yeah, we've been trying to get it remodeled.” Aran frowned. “Ah, well. It's all we've got.”

He and Eddy disappeared through the doorway. Luctor shook his head and walked inside.

At first, his mind couldn't process what his eyes saw. Then his realization hit him as hard as an Acme anvil: No one was there.

Luctor looked around nervously, wondering if this was a trap set by the Black Mage. The only sound was Luctor's own breathing. Eddy and Aran had disappeared as if they had never existed. A board above him broke the silence and creaked ominously. Luctor snapped open his fan and immediately leaped backwards, expecting an attacker to jump down.

But no one was there.

A loud banging noise came from right below his feet. Startled, Luctor leaped backwards again, and a hidden trapdoor opened.

Eddy's head appeared and he scowled at Luctor. “Aren't you supposed to be super-observant or something? There's a hidden door. No one in their right mind would use this old piece of crud as a training place.”

“Uh... right.” He climbed down the ladder under the trapdoor after Eddy.

Aran lifted his massive pole arm as Luctor approached. “I don't know where your skill level is at, so I think we should start out with some sparring.”

Luctor snapped open his fan. “Right.”

They stared at each other for a couple of minutes, each waiting for the other to make a move. Aran loosened his grip on his pole arm, letting it slip through his hands a little before tightly gripping it again. He held it only a few inches from the bottom. It would give him a longer reach but less power.

Luctor rushed forward even as Aran swung his pole arm. He dove to the ground, letting it swipe over him harmlessly while skidding forward. Aran used the momentum of the pole arm to shift his grip back up to the middle of the shaft, and stopped it from moving further. He shifted his left hand right next to the head of the pole arm and yanked it in front of his body, blocking Luctor's strike.

Aran pushed the bottom of the polearm forwards by rotating his torso, aiming at Luctor's head. Luctor ducked, then, sensing a brief opening as Aran's entire body was facing the other way, stood up and slashed upwards with his fan. Aran swiftly pulled his pole arm back around, smashing the shaft into Luctor's shoulder while receiving a minor cut.

He backed up, shoulder throbbing painfully. Aran once again shifted his grip to the bottom of the pole arm and swung it diagonally upwards to the left. Luctor ducked under it, turned around, and hooked his arm around the pole arm. He used its upward force to jump directly on top of the weapon, pinning it down with his body weight. He shifted one of the metal frames on his fan loose and flicked his wrist towards Aran, sending the sharpened frame flying at him like a throwing knife.

With his right hand still gripping his pole arm, Aran used the metal wrist guard on his left hand to deflect the missile away. Luctor lunged, determined to fit a strike into Aran's short moment of weakness. As Luctor's foot left the blade of the pole arm, Aran forced the pole arm closer to his body, allowing to regain a grip with his left hand. He then used the extra hand to force the pole arm backwards, hitting Luctor's chest with the bottom of it.

There was a sharp crack and Luctor flew backwards a couple of feet onto his bottom. He winced.

“I think you broke my rib,” he told Aran.

Aran set his pole arm upright in the ground. “And that's why we have a Cleric.”

With a small snapping sound, Eddy suddenly appeared next to Luctor. He looked down at him and raised an eyebrow before pointing his staff at Luctor's chest. The emerald surged with green energy, which was promptly absorbed into Luctor's chest.

“Better?” Eddy scratched his goatee.

“Yeah, thanks.” Luctor stood up unsteadily.

“Well, your skill level is pretty... low,” Aran frowned. “You can do basic maneuvers, but you weren't doing anything more advanced. You didn't forget how to do all your carefully developed techniques, didja?”

Luctor sighed. “No, I remember perfectly how to do them. I remember the feel of my muscles when I was doing them. I'm just not strong enough...”

“I guess we should start by building up your strength, eh?” Aran smirked. “Get down and do ten.”

To be continued...
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